Friday, September 29, 2006

America's long path toward fascism took a big step forward today. Despite rational arguments,the "terrorist" detainee bill passed the Senate without the proposed amendment to save habeas corpus. Well that was a good concept while it lasted. A good eight centuries or so. Magna Carta? Anyone? Bueller?

Good old midterm elections, nothing like the threat of attack ads saying you are "soft on terror" to get some sketchy ass legislation passed right quick. And the wiretap shit passed the House today as well. Fear-mongering RULES!So yeah, congrats everyone, you can tell your grandkids you were there to see the downfall of the greatest civilization in the history of mankind. That is if you're not up against the wall when the revolution comes dead.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Do not bring up these subjects with me unless you want a crazy rant. Especially if I am shitfaced.

Insurance companies: So wrong in so many ways. Seriously, do not get me started.Global Warming, or as it should be called, Climate Change.SUVs: do you need an explanation?Corporate culture: Mainly because I am being raped by it. Always remember, shit flows downhill.Mike Mamula/Eagles drafts: I cheered when the drafted Donny Mac Nabb, and I think I was the only one.The Legal/Justice/Prison system: don't work for the most part. Institutionalizes anyone involved, again, for the most part.Electoral College/Voting: outdated bullshit to maintain the status quo.War on anything as a part of the lexicon. ie "War on Drugs" or "War on Terror." How can you declare war on a method of warfare or something people put into their bodies? I declare war on drinking.

Monday, September 18, 2006

During college, we took a road trip up to Marquette University, which, in case you didn't know, is in Milwaukee.

Night of belligerence involving box of wine, apartment parties and box of wine.

Eventually we make it back to the condo where we are staying. Mueller and I decide that its a good idea to go out on the 2nd floor balcony and heckle/talk shit to people walking by.

After some indiscriminate amount of time, some guy walks by wearing one glove, so I start yelling various Michael Jackson related insults. He responds by inviting me downstairs to settle our differences

I accept, mostly due to liquid courage. But since I am rolling out alone against Michael Jackson and his crew of 3-4 I decide to bring a weapon. Looking around the condo, theres a bag of golf clubs, a mini wooden bat and a broadsword.

I choose sword and run downstairs to the front stoop brandishing it like Inigo Montoya.

At this point its kind of a blur, but in essence Mr. Jackson was crazier than me that day.

He came straight at me. I promptly realized I had chosen wrong. What the hell could I do with the sword. I'm not going to run him through like some sort of pirate.And while I hesitated he got me into a full nelson. But I am still brandishing the sword, effectively keeping his friends off me.

"Drop the sword!""Let me go, I'll drop the sword!"Etc. A stalemate.

At this point some other dude probably named Karl(who apparently knows judo and likes to fight) rushed out the front door. He stands there for a second sizing up the situation, and one of Michael's friends runs up and punches him in the face. They start scuffling and general mayhem ensues. During which Mueller is throwing beer bottles that are shattering all over the front porch.

And in fact, Karl had done just that. I see the guy holding his hand with a flap of skin keeping his pinky still attached.Apparently Old Nine Finger had given Karl a fishhook, so Karl had chomped down, clear through the bone.

That ended the fight, and I retired back to the condo, where I cleaned up my foot, due to a piece of broken glass had sliced my big toe clear to the bone. Thanks Mueller.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Yeah, you driving that white Ford Excursion (Expedition? Land monster.) with the fraternal order of police sticker on the back. Fuck you.

As you can probably tell from that outstanding diagram I made above, said whore (I don't know if she's actually a whore -- in the sex for money sense -- but she definitely sells herself in some unscrupulous way) tried to pull the old "zoom up the side then merge in at the last minute" move.

In some cases this is acceptable, or at least tolerable. For example on the highway, when the number of lanes decrease. Reasonable.

But no, this was in Main Street at Exton, a glorified strip mall that some wise ass engineer decided build with "a small town feel." He failed. But anyway, there was a clear line of cars waiting to make a right turn merge onto Route-a-hundred. You bravely decided that this line of about 7-10 cars was far too long and proceded to cut.

Imagine me being snapped out of my stoner rock reverie when you violently swerved toward my little blue Saturn. Not sure if you just didn't see me, or figured I could reverse real quick and smash the guy behind me. Actually you probably figured the magic bubble that surrounds your SUV would push my car safely out of your way.

Either way, I can surmise your surprise when I stuck up for my personal driving space by giving you a little beep. Don't worry about not flipping the bird at this egregious act, because your precious little mouthbreather named Sarin was in the backseat.

You got your point across after we got out onto route 100 by flooring past us poor small car driving plebes on your way to back your McMansion.

No worries there either, we all know how hubby would be disappointed if you don't make sure your army of Mexicans gets the laundry done/grass cut/dinner made before he gets home.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Good times. Sitting here cleaning up 20-hour-old puke. Stupid party ball, you have forsaken me once again.

Hasn't been a very good day, at least in my world of sports. Phillies lose in extras. Touchdown Jesus smites JoePa. And Northwestern lost to New fucking Hampshire. (Although I was informed by our assistant sports editor/sardonic bastard that UNH's QB and #1 WR are NFL prospects. And that the WR could break a bunch of Jerry Rice's 1AA records. So thats something.)

But there's good stuff too. Like Gary Smith on Pat Tillman. And photos of Prez G-Dub doing some sort of hang-ten style wave on the AP photo wire.

Hey, wait a second, that party ball isn't kicked yet.*pours*takes sipmmmmm....plastic ball filled with beer. And not entirely skunky. We have ourselves a winner.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

The Philadelphia Phillies and San Francisco Giants are standing together, talking.

PHI: So, yeah, how’d you do yesterday?

SFO. A’ight. We got Mike Stanton closing out games for us now. 1-2-3 in the ninth.

PHI: Um, okay. That might get worse before it gets better.

SFO: You guy’s win?

PHI: Not so much. J-Roll got thrown out at second in the ninth, killing our rally.

SFO: That J-Roll. When’s he gonna settle down and find a nice girl? I always see him out on the town with Pat Burrell. Those two can sure fill out a suit.

Uncomfortable silence.

SFO: So, what about the Padres? They win again?

PHI: Yeah. Another walk-off.SFO: Yeah, They’re so hot right now. We play them tomorrow. That Mike Piazza. He’s classically handsome. I respect that.

Philadelphia coughs loudly.

PHI: Well I, ah, gotta go....Playing Florida tomorrow...SFO: The Marlins?! I heard that they’re having a party tonight for their no-hitter. We should carpool.

PHI: Yeah, um, I’m on my bike.

SFO: Oh.

PHI: I guess we could...

SFO: No, no. That’s fine. Stretches and yawns. Gotta big game tomorrow. Gonna beat those Padres. Help us both out. Coughs awkwardly. No, have fun at your party. Tell those Marlins I hope they get moved to Oklahoma City and that their parents fucking die...just kidding. I love those kids.

PHI: Yeah, talk to you.

Philly leaves.SFO:Looks at watch. Got a few hours to kill...In walks the Cincinnati Reds.CIN: Hey! I didn’t know you were still here. Wanna grab some chili?SFO: Get away from me, you loser.

I'll set the scene.Bob's house. 2 Kegs. A douchebag in the now infamous pink shirt(from now on known as "Pinky"). drunken randoms everywhere. Jello shots.

Started off, classic beer bash. The 3 B's: Boozing, Beer Pong and Belligerence. May or may not have been fireworks.

But at some point a stray jello shot found its way onto said pink shirt. Pinky, gangsta that he is, did not take this lightly. Eventually his pink rage focused on Craigs cousin, for understandable reasons. He can be an asshole.There was much shoving, grabbing of shirts and pointing, with the end result of Pinky and crew's ejection from the party.Taken as a sign of disrespect, the pink shirt crew decided to arm themselves with 2 aluminum baseball bats and a golf club. They stormed the party, presumably to exact their revenge, but were disarmed fairly quickly. Bob standing in the doorway with an unloaded shotgun helped too.Craziness ensued, with no serious injuries, except to Bob's deck furniture.

We ended up staying up til sun-up doing shots of Jager. And now I can't drink Jager. Oh well.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Back in the 90s, a memorable example of belligerent Philly fans was during a game against the hated triplet-era Cowboys. Michael Irvin suffered what looked to be a serious injury while being tackled to the notorious Veteran's stadium turf, by Tim Hauck of all people.As Irvin lay motionless, the crowd cheered. Arguably the worst cheer ever. Needless to say, we Philly fans are big on schadenfreude. But remember, Irvin ended up being fine, going on to many more "Jacked Up!" segments and lines of coke.Nevertheless, this is often pointed to as a classic example of how awful Philly fans are, really, the lowest of the low. After all, we booed freaking Santa Claus. The symbol of Christmas!

Anyway, to mark the upcoming start of the NFL: here some athletes that could potentially receive the Michael Irvin treatment.

Terrell Owens: You were expecting Sal Fasano? Seriously, if you need to know why TO is hated in Philly, turn on ESPN for 5 minutes.

Barry Bonds: Not sure how this kind of terrible injury could happen in baseball -- maybe he gets clocked in the face with a pitch. I don't think Philly fans would cheer if that happened to Bonds, especially not the baseball crowd. But if he were to suddenly suffer a horrible leg injury while jogging from second to third, thats a different story.

JD Drew: If he were to take a Brett Myers heater to the eye, the cheering would be loud and long. And yes, I really want to see the Phils play the Dodgers in the playoffs this year.Tie Domi: Flyers fans are almost as angry as Eagles fans at this point, inexplicably, I think, because hockey blows. But from what I know of my hockey-fan friends, Tie Domi is someone who would get no sympathy.Scott Stevens: If he's still around. See above.

Eric Lindros: I think the fans would be more likely to cheer a car accident involving his Dad, Carl. Even though he was a concussion-prone oaf, and he was acquired in the hockey version of the Herschel Walker trade, he doesn't inspire that particular kind of ire amid Flyers faithful.Eli Manning: The whole "annointed in New York as savior" thing wears thin pretty quick here in the city of brotherly love. Although I think an Eli injury would result less in cheers and more in laughter. At least from me.

Thats all I can think of right now. If there are more candidates, hit up the comments.